


Without You

by mystic_writings



Series: Julie and The Phantoms One Shots [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Teen Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29954100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystic_writings/pseuds/mystic_writings
Summary: Y/n has to live her life without her boyfriend, Luke Patterson, after he dies. Here's what her life looks like in the 25 years she and her son spend without Luke.
Relationships: Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms)/Reader, Owen Patrick Joyner/Reader, Reggie Peters (Julie and The Phantoms)/Reader
Series: Julie and The Phantoms One Shots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203053
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've posted on Ao3! More will be coming, since I'm also posting most of my Tumblr fics onto here as well :)

**July 1995**

You cheered on the band as they practiced before their gig. After months of hard work, they were finally playing the Orpheum, and you couldn’t be more proud of their success. You knew that from here, they could only go up. You laughed as the boys bounced around the stage, happy to perform on it even if, for now, it was just warmups to make sure everything was just fine.

They were playing one of your favourites, at your request, and they would also be playing it later on tonight, along with a few other songs. When they finished, you and the girl who worked at the Orpheum cheered for the boys, following them with your eyes as they walked over. 

Luke instinctively leaned in to kiss you, but you backed away. “Ew, you’re sweaty. I don’t wanna kiss you when you’re sweaty.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before, has it?” 

Alex made a disgusted face at Luke’s words. “Could you keep that to yourselves, please? I don’t want to hear that kind of stuff.” 

Laughing, you pushed the conversation Bobby and Reggie were having with Rose as you kept your eyes on Luke, the only emotion in them being love. “Wanna come with me and the boys? Well, aside from Bobby- we’re gonna go across the street and get hot dogs.”

You would’ve smiled at Luke’s grin, but the sound of hot dogs made your stomach churn and you grimaced. “No, I’ll pass on the hot dogs for now. I think I’m catching something. And besides, I don’t think eating hot dogs from that guy is a good idea. Even people have the sense not to eat hot dogs with condiments that are inside the hood of a car.”

“Come on, they’re not that bad.” Reggie chimed in quickly. “They haven’t killed us yet, have they?” 

You scoffed playfully and turned back to your boyfriend. “I’ll be backstage waiting for the show to start, and then I’ll be in the front row, cheering you on. Okay?”

“Sounds perfect.” Luke planted a kiss to your lips and squeezed your hand once, shooting you a smile that never failed to make your knees weak before walking out of the building with Reggie and Alex, while you went backstage.

You didn’t have to wait for long when a loud siren caught your attention from backstage. Curious, you exited the building, watching as the red and blue lights flashed alarmingly, blinding you. They came from the other side of the street, where three ambulances were parked and a small crowd had gathered. 

Feeling your heart crack in worry, you sped over to the other side of the street, worried and panicked. Breaking through the crowd, you spotted Luke’s backpack on the sofa that was pressed against a building, but no Luke. Your eyes scanned frantically for him and his friends, but the only one you saw was a teary-eyed Bobby, eyes glued to a gurney.

Rushing up to him, you let your fears take over your senses, flooding your eyes with tears and causing your hands to shake. You couldn’t contain the scream-like sob that tore from your lips when you got a glimpse of Luke just before the paramedics pulled the white sheet over his head. He was so still, so pale. That wasn’t your Luke. Your Luke was smiling, energetic, full of life. He wasn’t dead.

You felt your knees give way and hit the pavement, your hands flying up to your mouth as you watched the boys get loaded into the ambulance’s, no life left in them. It felt like all the air around you was gone, your sobs making it hard to breathe. Your face was sticky with tears as someone picked you up by the waist and helped you into their car, taking you to your house and giving you to your parents. 

They questioned you about what had happened, and you could barely even get the words out. Your mother held you in her arms as you grieved, and she grieved with you. She loved Luke like a son; she had lost someone, too. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and many nights after that. 

**August 1995**

You were surprised you were still alive with how little you were eating. Between the grief and constant nausea, you didn’t get many meals into your day. In the past week, you and Bobby had gone to Reggie and Alex’s funeral, being consoled by people you didn’t even know. There weren’t enough tissues to wipe away the tears you cried for the boys you loved like brothers.

Today was Luke’s funeral. There was something in you that didn’t want you to go, to see him so still, the way you saw him two weeks ago when he was being put in the ambulance. But you knew you would never forget yourself if you didn’t go. So, you got up and put on the same black dress you wore to the boys’ funerals and got in your parent’s car. 

His funeral was the worst. Seeing him in the casket, so calm and peaceful, almost broke you. It got worse when you saw his parents. You knew he had been meaning to apologise to them, especially because you had a part in convincing him. He was going to tell them when the band started getting popular, and you were sure that was supposed to be soon after that night. 

When you locked eyes with Emily, you both started to cry all over again. Without an ounce of hesitation, you made your way to her and she wrapped her arms around you, almost sending you deeper into the hole you were in. When you could, you whispered, “He loved you.” 

She sobbed at your words, but you knew she needed to hear them. “He loved you, too.” Was her response. 

Emily and Mitch stuck by you for the wake and the funeral. They knew you needed the comfort and you knew they needed it, too. That dreary, cloudy day, you buried the love of your life, and your heart went with him.

**September 1995**

Sighing heavily, you pulled your coat tighter to your body and stepped out of your car. The cemetery was empty, like it usually was when you visited. You made your way to the three gravestones that were lined up right next to each other, carrying small bouquets of flowers for each one. 

Blue lilies for Alex, yellow tulips for Reggie, and white roses for Luke.

You placed the flowers on their graves gently, as if you would disturb them by doing so. When you got to Luke’s grave, a shaking sob slipped past your lips as you read the words on his tombstone. They forgot a few words. 

“Hey, Luke.” You sniffled. “A lot’s happened this week. Uh, Bobby hasn’t been talking to me lately, and I don’t know how to reach him anymore. My mom was close to kicking me out of the house yesterday, and my dad was the one to actually do it. Your parents were kind enough to let me stay with them. They miss you, you know.” 

A humourless chuckle erupted from your chest as you wiped a tear from your cheek. “They messed up your tombstone, by the way. It says ‘loving son’ but you’re not just a son anymore. It should say ‘loving son and father.’” A shaking breath left your body and you had to clench your fists to stop them from shaking, too. “I’m pregnant, Luke. I found out last week. You’re gonna be a dad.” 

When you received no response, you chuckled and turned to Reggie and Alex’s tombstones. “And you guys are gonna be uncles. I’m hoping it’s a boy; maybe he’ll look just like you. But I don’t really mind. Because in about 6 months I’m gonna be a mom, and I’ll have someone to take care of. Someone I can raise and tell stories about you to. I’ve already thought of names. Lucas Alexander for a boy, and Maria Faith if it’s a girl. You told me you always liked the name Faith.” 

You looked up at the sky once, trying to keep your tears in as you let your hand rest on your belly, where a bump was beginning to form. “They’re gonna love you, Luke. I know they are. And I know you’re not here physically… but I know you’ll always be there, one way or another. You wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

**March 1997**

You looked at your son with tears in your eyes and a smile on your face. Today was Lucas’s first birthday, and like every other milestone, you couldn’t help but be emotional that his father wasn’t there to see it all. But you felt like he was. Whether you knew it or not, something told you he was. 

Lucas babbled on the playmat, chewing on plushies before tossing them around. Mitch, who seemed to be determined to spoil the young boy since the day he was born, was keeping Lucas entertained as Emily prepared to get everything ready. You invited your close friends, some other mothers from Lucas’ daycare, and your parents to celebrate your son’s birthday. Of course, your parents had kicked you out when they told you that you were pregnant and haven’t talked to you since, so you didn’t expect them to come. 

And just as you predicted, they didn’t come. Everyone else did, but your parents didn’t. 

The entire time, you were sure you didn’t let Lucas out of your arms. Despite being rational and knowing he was okay, there was always a voice in the back of your mind to counter your rationality and fill you with worry and doubt. You only ever handed him to either Emily or your best friend, Alicia, and that was only when you needed to make sure everything was ready for when Lucas would blow out the candles.

Mitch, of course, spent most of his time with the camera recorder perched on his shoulder, making sure to capture as many moments as he could. You smiled and pulled a goofy face whenever the attention was on you, and more than once did you hold up Lucas’s hand and wave it at the camera.

You barely busied your thoughts with Luke, too busy trying to keep yourself sane while you raised your son. Of course, there were some days where it got to be too much and he was all you could think about, but when those days came, you would just hold Lucas and whisper stories about his father to him. There was no doubt in your mind that Lucas would turn out to be just like Luke. He was already too energetic for his own good, and whenever you played music he wouldn’t stop giggling and bouncing around. 

Lucas was what brought you back to your old self, although more mature than you used to be, for his sake. He was what grounded you, he was what allowed you to grieve without becoming self-destructive. Everything you were, you owed to Lucas.

**September 2001**

You’ve been crying since you woke up this morning. Today was Lucas’s first day of school. He was five, now, and although you knew it was going to happen, you never thought the day would actually come. You were used to coming home from work to see him on the couch with Emily or Mitch, watching the tv with as much excitement as a toddler could muster, which was lots. 

Now, here you were, asking Lucas to stand outside the front door in his first-day outfit (that he proudly picked out himself). Tears slowly leaked from your eyes, but the smile never left your face at how happy your son seemed to be to go to school and make new friends. He stood proudly for the camera and you took a few photos before handing the camera to Alicia, who never dared to miss any of Lucas’s special occasions. 

“Mommy, why are you crying?” Lucas asked, and you hadn’t realised that he moved from the steps in front of Emily and Mitch’s front door to stand in front of you. With a little bit of struggle, you picked him up. 

“Mommy’s just thinking about how happy your dad would be to see you all dressed up and ready for your first day of school.” You plastered a smile on your face and Lucas nodded, giving you a kiss on the cheek, melting your heart. 

“But mommy, remember when you told me that my daddy was always with me?” You nodded at the boy. “Well then he’s with you all the time, too. Just like he is with me.” 

More tears welled in your eyes and you smiled a watery smile, pressing a kiss to your son’s forehead before putting him back on the ground. “Say goodbye to auntie Alicia before we’re late for school, sweetie.”

**April 2009**

You swore your heart could’ve broken when you got home from work. Lucas was in his room, and you could faintly hear broken and off-key chords floating from his door. It reminded you that Luke and his passion for music was still alive, passed down to his son. Slowly, you put your purse and keys on the table in the entryway and made your way upstairs. 

Lucas, now 13, jumped when you knocked on his open door, looking up from his guitar to find you standing there. “I-I can stop, i-if you want me to. I know how music makes you feel.” 

“It’s okay, Lucas.” You laughed, coming to sit beside him on the bed. 

“I just wanted to feel a little bit closer to him, you know? But I can’t get the chords right.” 

“That’s okay, you’re still new at it. It took your dad ages to get a melody right, you know.” You told your son. 

“Really?” He looked up at you with wide eyes and you laughed. 

“Really. And once you get over that hurdle, everything else gets easier as you go.” You wrapped your arm around the boy. “But I know that no matter what, your dad would be there to help you out. He would’ve been so happy from the moment you picked up the guitar.”

Lucas smiled and looked down at the guitar. “Do you think I could get guitar lessons?” 

You pretended to think before letting go of Lucas. “Yeah, I think I can arrange that.” 

“Thanks.” The room went silent for a beat as you looked around the posters plastered all over Lucas’s blue walls, the stack of CDs that held a plethora of bands, including the demo CD for Sunset Curve. “I just want to make him proud, you know?”

“I know, sweetie.” You kissed the top of his head. “But I just know that he already is. No matter what. Okay?” 

“Okay.”

**November 2020**

“Grandma? Grandpa? Who’s there?” A deep voice resonated from the kitchen, startling both Julie and Luke. All four heads turned to the kitchen entrance, where a tall, lanky man was standing in the doorway. “Who’s she?” 

“Lucas, don’t be rude!” You said, following behind your son. You grew up, but the man was taller than you by a few inches. Tears flooded Luke’s eyes as you scolded the boy with a smile on your face. Your hair was still long and beautiful, though now there were a few grey hairs tucked into the h/c locks. Your eyes still had that hopeful shine to them, and your skin was devoid of blemishes, save for a few laugh lines. You looked good. 

Luke turned to look at the man. He looked a lot like him. He had the same hair and lean figure, similar smile’s and voices. But the eyes were yours. Luke felt his heart turn to dust as he looked at the near carbon copy of him standing in the doorway and muttering an apology to his mother. _Mother._ With a sob, he nearly fell to the floor.

“What’s your name, dear?” 

She sent a tight smile to you as you came to Emily’s side. “My name’s Julie. I was just dropping off that.” 

You looked over Emily’s shoulder and your smile faltered when you noticed the messy scrawl of Luke’s handwriting. The song he wrote for his mother laid out in front of you, and you could faintly recall the melody and tune when he played it with Sunset Curve in the studio.

“I’m Y/n.” You said before pointing to the figure hovering in the doorway of the kitchen. “That’s my son, Lucas. Lucas, come and say hi.” 

The boy - who was more of a man, really, since he was almost 25 - pushed off the door frame and made his way to Julie, sticking his hand out for her to shake. “Good to meet you, Julie. You can call me Luke.” 

She seemed stuck in place, staring at your son as if she’d seen a ghost. When she snapped herself out of it, she shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, too.” 

“Have I- have I seen you somewhere? I swear I know you.” Julie asked Lucas, genuinely curious about the familiarity of his face. It wasn’t just the similarities between him and Luke that she noticed; there was something else familiar about him that she couldn’t quite place. 

“Maybe. I’m the lead guitarist for my band, Dawn of Men. We’re getting a little up there with our fanbase,” Luke tensed at the man’s words. Lucas was in a band, just like he was. He moved over to you, the tears that had been building up in his eyes now spilling over as he tried to reach you. 

You felt shivers go up your spine, as if someone was right next to you, but there was no one there. You dismissed it as the cold, but you couldn’t fool yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Luke was trying and failing to get your attention, crying as he frantically screamed your name and tried to put his hand on your shoulder, only to have it pass right through you. There was something about your son, something that deep down, he knew, but he didn’t have the confirmation he needed from you. That was _his son._ No one could tell him otherwise, they just had to look at the two of them side-by-side and they would know. 

He knew he should’ve listened to you that night. Then maybe he would’ve been there for you, helped you through it all, and gotten to raise and know who his son was. All he had now was his friends and his regrets, and that wasn’t enough to help him cope with all that he lost. Julie continued making small talk with you and your son, while Luke wandered the halls of his old home. 

Pictures scattered the hallways, ones of you and Lucas as he grew up peppered in with childhood pictures of Luke, and sometimes, it was as if the pictures of you and Lucas were taken in Luke’s childhood, he and his son looked so alike. Birthday pictures, graduation photos, photos of picnics in the park nearby. 

He watched his son grow up in photos, and that was all he would ever get. He would never be able to touch you again, talk to you, say hi to his own son. Luke would never get the family he wanted, and it killed him all over again. He just wanted to see you, know you, be with you. But you couldn’t see him. 

You had gone on living without him, and as much as he hated that he wasn’t there, he knew that there wasn’t anything he could do. 


End file.
